


Joe and Patrick vs. The Big Gay Sex

by leere



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dry Sex, First Time, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Van Days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 03:54:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4862069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leere/pseuds/leere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joe and Patrick kind of fail at the whole gay sex thing. (Ignore the lame title, that was the original name for it and I thought it was funny so it's staying.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Joe and Patrick vs. The Big Gay Sex

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this over a year ago. Wow. Wanted to get it out of my drafts so I cleaned it up, and yeah. Anyway, it's an unofficial, like, continuation of [this.](http://anon-lovefest.livejournal.com/38126.html?thread=6266606) (You should probably read that first. It's pretty short, don't worry.) I wanted to write bb!Joetrick porn (there's not nearly enough Joetrick porn in this world ugh), and that fic had holes in it that I saw an opportunity to fill with smut, so here we are.  
> Credit to the original anonymous author, and I own nothing. This shit isn't real, at least not to my knowledge, but hey, if my suspicions about these two are true, they fooled around a few times as teens and it might as well be. ~~Also, in the first draft of this, I legit accidentally typed that Patrick's dick was food sized instead of good sized. Ba da da da da, I'm lovin' it. Go eat a Chicken McDick today.~~

"So," Joe says slowly, cautiously, tossing his duffel bag to the side and taking a seat on one of the two beds in their shitty motel room. He looks at Patrick, who's looking around the plain room, eyes fixing on the blank TV. Joe clears his throat loudly, and Patrick glances at him. "Gay sex. Now might be a good time to, you know. Try it." He sticks a finger through the hole he's made with the pointer and thumb of his other hand and waggles his eyebrows, and he grins when Patrick rolls his eyes.

"Sure, whatever," Patrick says anyway, despite his obvious annoyance at Joe's immaturity. He sets his own bag down on the table and goes over to Joe. "You wanna, um, get comfortable or something?"

Joe honestly expected Patrick to say "are you fucking serious?" or "go fuck yourself" - he really hadn't expected Patrick to actually want to fuck. But he's glad Patrick's into this, and he eagerly scoots up the bed until his back's against the headboard and he's sitting on the pillows. "So how are we gonna, like...?"

Patrick just shrugs, kneeling on the bed and frowning at Joe's crotch.

Joe presses his lips together. "Do you have any idea how to do this? Or are we going into this totally blind?"

Patrick's brows come together and he bites his lip, and then he's knee-walking over and throwing a leg over Joe's lap, straddling him. "Eh?" he asks, settling awkwardly on top of the guitarist.

"Eh," Joe answers, bringing his hands up to rest on Patrick's hips. He has really nice hips, Joe thinks idly. They're not feminine hips, but Patrick's curvy enough that Joe hardly minds that he has a dick, though he still misses boobs sometimes, when he's touching Patrick's chest and there's nothing to squeeze. But speaking of Patrick's chest, he hasn't seen it in days and he kind of wants to drag his nails down it and lick at the little red lines that bloom and watch Patrick arch up into the touch. He clears his throat again, nervous. He's going to fuck Patrick for the first time, and he's excited but definitely a little worried. "Um. Shouldn't our clothes go, like. Bye-bye?"

Patrick huffs a little, climbing off Joe and fumbling with his own belt. He gets it off and then pulls his jeans down, and they're thrown somewhere, but Joe doesn't see because now Patrick's going for _his_ pants, licking his lips and fumbling with Joe's fly. He still has his shirt and hat and glasses on, but his bottom half is bare, and his thighs are as pale and thick and appealing as ever, and his dick, well. Joe's not alarmed by his dick anymore - he's had it in his mouth enough times now to not think twice about it. It's kind of ridiculous looking, as most penises are, but it's okay - reddish in color and decently sized, and it's curling up towards his stomach because he's a teenager and taking his damn clothes off turns him on. Joe remembers how when Pete first met Patrick, he'd told Joe afterwards, "That kid would look really fucking good naked, all that pale skin. But he's ginger so, you know, he's probably a fire crotch," except he's not. He's got a fine trail of golden brownish hair starting at his belly button, and it's a little on the red side but he doesn't have ginger pubes. There's nothing wrong with ginger pubes, of course, but if he actually had them, Joe would see Pete's stupid smug smile whenever he went down on him, and he does not need an imaginary Pete joyously singing, "I was right, I was right, he is a fire crotch," while he's sucking dick. Which, oh yeah, dick.

Patrick gets a hand around Joe's and strokes him a few times, then bends to mouth at the head, and imaginary Pete thankfully flees Joe's head, shrilling, "Oh no, oh God, the gay, it's consuming me!"

Patrick sucks Joe's dick for a few minutes, lazy bobs of his head and some even lazier wrist action at the base, and he's doing a totally shitty job but Joe doesn't say anything, just watches his hooded eyes and his hollowed cheeks. Then Patrick's standing up, skeptically eyeing Joe's dick like it's some kind of puzzling challenge when it's just a damn penis, it's not like it's a Sudoku puzzle or some shit. Finally, he says, "That is going up my ass," like he's just realizing that, yeah, that's pretty much what gay sex is and they're kind of about to have it.

"So like, I'll fuck you then?" Joe asks, looking up at Patrick and trying not to look concerned. Patrick has a nice ass, and the two times Joe's snuck a finger up him during a blowjob, Patrick's hissed a little but rocked down on the finger nonetheless, and Joe thinks it's safe to assume Patrick's been thinking about this for a while now. Joe himself has thought of it a few times, pictured Patrick's face and how he'd feel and how he'd sound. He exhales and catches Patrick's eye. "In the ass?"

"Yeah," Patrick says, licking his palm and giving his own cock a few slow, dry tugs, his breath hitching. "But don't - don't make it weirder than it already is or I'll chicken out. I'm already having second thoughts."

"Okay. Come on, then." Joe pushes his hips up, and Patrick frowns at his dick. "Patrick," Joe says, and Patrick glances up. Joe smirks. "My eyes are up here, dude."

"Shut up," Patrick says, lips twisting to the side in a scowl, "or I'm not letting your dirty boner anywhere near my ass. Um. Okay, scoot down a little. Lay flat."

Joe moves down the bed, awkwardly flopping down on it and staring at Patrick as he climbs on top and straddles him, thighs on either side of Joe's. Patrick chews on his bottom lip, looking down at where Joe's cock is inches from his own. "I have no idea what to do next."

"Sit on it," Joe says, and now he's a little impatient, rutting up against Patrick.

"Should I, like, finger myself or something first? They do it in porn."

"Isn't it just like with vaginas? It's just kind of wet enough to go in, just like that?"

"I don't know. We should've Googled this." Patrick glares down at Joe's dick some more and mumbles, "They don't teach us about our assholes in sex ed, that's bullshit."

"So run for president and change that. Hurry the hell up, dude."

Patrick nods and moves up, placing his hands on Joe's shoulders. "Condom?" he asks.

"You can't get pregnant, can you?"

Patrick hesitates, then nods again, determination in his eyes, and his face contorts in concentration when he brings himself down on Joe's cock. Joe frowns when the head doesn't go in, and it kind of just awkwardly presses against Patrick's ass.

"Hold my hips," Patrick says, and Joe rests his hands on them, thumbs pressing into the chub there, watching as Patrick reaches down between them. "Wait, no, hold your dick."

Joe lets go with one hand and reaches between them for his own cock. Patrick bends his knees a little, reaching down to spread himself, and then he's coming down on it, and him and Joe both shout, Joe trying to buck up and Patrick crying out a little.

"Nope, nope, nope," Patrick says, lifting himself up instantly so he's kneeling over Joe again, "no, no, no, that is _not_ working, nope." 

Joe frowns. "What's wrong?" His dick had only gotten in maybe a centimeter deep, the head hadn't even gone in all the way, but that had still felt amazing - like a taste of heaven. A tease of heaven, really; he's itching to get _inside_ , and he wants inside _now_.

"Too dry," Patrick says, shaking his head. "Do you have, like, is there lotion, or - or something?"

Joe snickers a little. "I got Jergens for jerkin', in my bag."

"Got it," Patrick says, clambering off of him. Joe watches him walk over to the Joe's bag, still laying on the floor, eyes on his ass. He grins when Patrick bends down, stares at where he was barely inside just a minute ago and thinks, _holy shit, I'm tapping that. I'm taking his virginity, that's really fucking awesome._ Something possessive curls in his belly, and when Patrick comes back, grinning with the bottle in his hand, Joe grabs him by the wrist and pulls him in, kissing him hard.

When they break apart, he says, "We should light some candles and put on Marvin Gaye or something, huh?"

"Let's just try to get your dick in my ass without either of us dying," Patrick says, getting on the bed and laying down, legs spread and hips raised so Joe has a nice view. "Should I do it like I do at home?"

Joe nods eagerly, sitting up so he can see better. "You finger yourself when you're at home?"

"Sometimes, yeah," Patrick says, biting his bottom lip as he coats two of his fingers in lotion. 

"That's hot. Uh - do you ever, like." Joe loses what he was going to say when Patrick pushes a finger into himself, grinding down on it immediately. It's really hot, watching Patrick touch himself like that. Patrick wraps a hand around himself, lip caught between his teeth. Joe mirrors Patrick, his hand curling around his own cock.

"Do I ever what?" Patrick asks, trying to look down at himself. His chin's tucked against his chest, and it's giving him a double chin, but Joe doesn't say anything. It's actually kind of endearing.

"Use toys? Like. Like dildos or whatever?"

Patrick shakes his head. "My mom would see. Or Pete. Not sure which is worse. But I used a cucumber once. Or a zucchini, I can't remember."

Joe's brows come together. "What the fuck?"

"I was looking for alternatives," Patrick shrugs, pulling his finger out, crossing two of them, then pushing them back into himself. He twists them, at the same time he thumbs the head of his dick, and his head thumps back. 

"Yeah, but that's fucking weird. I hope you threw it out once you were done."

"Nah," Patrick says, a little breathless, riding the fingers in his ass now. "I cut it up and made zucchini bread for you and Pete."

"Dude!"

"I'm fucking kidding," Patrick laughs - it cuts off when he moans, apparently catching a good angle, his fingers pumping into himself a little faster.

Joe scoffs. Patrick fingering himself is a damn hot sight, but his erection's withered with the zucchini dildo discussion, and he's impatient now. "Are you ready yet?"

Patrick lifts his head, considers Joe's dick, then nods and pulls his fingers out. "You're dick's not _that_ big, I shouldn't have to use three fingers."

"Fuck you, fucker, it's huge." 

Patrick sits up again, wiping his fingers off on the blanket because he's gross like that. Joe's nose wrinkles, but he doesn't call Patrick out on being dirty, even though they're going to _sleep_ here, that's _nasty_ -

He forgets the soiled comforter when Patrick climbs on top of him again, giving Joe's dick a few strokes. He's hard again in seconds, and at Patrick's prompting, he slides down the bed so he's laying flat, Patrick straddling his thighs. 

"I got this," Patrick whispers, and he sounds like he's reassuring himself more than Joe. He lifts up, reaches down to position himself, and then he's sliding down, all the way down, until Joe's all the way in. 

"Fuck," Joe says, grabbing at the sheets because he's scared to touch Patrick when he looks like that. His face is screwed up, eyes closed, lips pressed together. He clenches around Joe and Joe has to fight the urge to buck up. Patrick shifts his hips, and Joe can't help it, he thrusts up, hand coming up to grab at Patrick's ass.

"Shit, shit, hold on," Patrick says, sounding pained, and Jesus fucking Christ, he's so fucking tight, way too tight. It feels heavenly, though. Joe wants, needs to fuck him right now, but Patrick's taking deep breaths, slowly adjusting to the feeling of Joe's dick inside of him, biting his lip. His thighs are trembling, and he stops holding himself up and he sinks down even further, his mouth opening in a gasp as Joe stares at where he's buried deep and licks his lips. He's fucked a few girls before, and they were all great in bed, but he's pretty sure Patrick feels better than any of them. Or maybe he's just biased because at that very moment Patrick was ridiculously tight around his dick, but regardless, his brain is sort of short circuiting right now. "Okay," Patrick finally says, moving his hips a tiny bit. His voice is quiet, his face scrunched up. "Okay."

"Does it hurt?" Joe asks, because communication is key in a relationship, his mother always told him, and he's sure that includes during intercourse.

"Yeah," Patrick says, "kinda, but I think it's supposed to. 'Cause it's the first time. You know. But it - it mostly just feels weird."

"Oh. Okay. You need a moment?" He'll patiently wait if Patrick does, because he wants Patrick to enjoy this too, but he really hopes he doesn't because primal senses are kicking in and Joe really, really wants to bite and thrust and fuck.

Patrick's sweating a little. It glistens along his hairline, just under his hat, and it's admittedly a little distracting. "No, we can, yeah, you can go. Slow, please."

Joe nods, grinding up into him. He puts his hands on Patrick's hips, and he's already deciding that he loves the feeling of him under his hands, loves Patrick on top of him, loves being inside of him, loves the little whimpers he's letting out - shit, he's pretty sure he just loves Patrick in general. Or, again, maybe it's just because Patrick actually spread his legs for Joe. That's a damn good reason to love the feisty little singer.

They move together slowly, Joe overcautious and Patrick uncertain, with his face pinched up like he's about to start bitching. Joe doesn't blame him. It feels too dry, almost, even with the lotion. Too much friction. Joe doesn't think Patrick should be so tight, it's probably unhealthy or something, but then again in porn, the guy always mentions how tight their partner is, so maybe it's normal. Joe sighs and stops thinking and gets to fucking, but when he bucks up, Patrick makes a sobbing sound, his eyes squeezing shut. Joe asks if he's okay, and Patrick nods, says, "It's fine, yeah, it's good, I'm sorry," and after twenty painstaking minutes, Joe thrusts up and comes, and Patrick makes a weird noise, brows pulled together.

"Holy shit," Joe says, staring at the ceiling and panting. He looks up at Patrick and grins. "That was pretty fucking awesome."

Patrick shifts a little, looking uncomfortable and disgusted, and Joe thinks, _holy shit, my sperm is, like, swimming around in his ass right now._ Which actually isn't a good thought. He really doesn't want to knock Patrick up, or something.

"Guys don't have anything reproductive in their ass, right?" Joe asks, and he wonders if Patrick's gonna get off his dick anytime soon. He's worried it'll get wrinkly if it's in Patrick's ass too long, like when you're in the pool for hours and your toes and fingers get all pruny.

"I don't think so," Patrick's saying, and he clenches around Joe on the k in 'think', and Joe's hips jerk a little, and Patrick moans. He's still hard, Joe notices.

"Good," Joe says. "I don't want any mini-Joes popping out of your ass and running around singing Purple Rain." Patrick smiles a little at that, but he's looking down at his own hard dick, just barely rolling his hips, and Joe's pretty sure he's a little desperate to come at this point and that's why he can't focus. "Should I, um, jack you off?" he asks.

"Uh huh," Patrick says, sounding distracted. His eyelashes are delicate and pale against his flushed cheeks, his lips pouty and pink, and Joe's seriously falling head over heels in love with him and he doesn't know how he feels about that.

Joe gets a hand around his cock, and it takes five strokes for Patrick to shudder and come into Joe's fist. His ass clenches like a vice around Joe's dick when he does, and Joe's already fucking getting hard again, wow. He smiles, wiping his hand off on the hoodie that Patrick's still wearing. It's already got some more of Patrick's jizz on it, so a little more couldn't hurt. Patrick still glares at him.

"I love you," Joe tries, grinning a little crookedly and touching Patrick's cheek with his clean hand. He pets Patrick's sideburn, where it's starting to go from near-peach fuzz to actual thick, auburn stripes to match his hair. Patrick smiles too and leans into Joe's touch, and Joe's heart aches a little.

Then Patrick says, "Is your dick okay?" and Joe laughs.

"It's fine, yeah. You wanna, like, go clean up or something?"

" _Yes_ ," Patrick says immediately. "It's starting to feel really weird." Joe winces when Patrick gets off him, but Patrick's the one who makes a face. "Okay, that's seriously disgusting."

Joe laughs again, but when Patrick glares, he shuts up immediately.

Patrick goes to take a shower, but Joe's too tired to join him. He wipes his dick off with a tissue, though, thinking, _I don't want to go to sleep with ass juice on my dick, that's, like, totally gross, ew._ He turns on his side, naked, and he's nearly asleep when Patrick comes back. He's not wearing pants, but he's got a slightly tight t-shirt on. Joe's pretty sure it's Pete's, but he doesn't say anything. Patrick worms his way into his arms, bare ass to Joe's stomach, and Joe can totally imagine his disgusted face in the pitch black as he says, "Ew, you didn't fucking clean up?"

"Nope," Joe answers, grinding lazily against the back of Patrick's thigh.

"Stop it, ohmygod."

Joe bites Patrick's ear and chuckles, but then he falls asleep to the quiet, rhythmic thumping of Patrick's fingers tapping the pillow to the beat of the song they started writing earlier that day.

They try again the next chance they get, three weeks later in, like, Minnesota or something, with Patrick on his back this time around. Joe tries to push his own finger into him - he figures maybe it'll be easier if Patrick's, like, more aroused or whatever.

"It's not wet," he says dumbly when he pushes a finger in.

"No shit; it's my asshole," Patrick says tightly, gritting his teeth against the burn. Joe's still clueless, and he'd almost put it in dry until Patrick told him to at least use spit. 

"Isn't it supposed to be wet? Like, natural lubricant? Didn't we determine this last time?"

"Yeah, I don't think so."

"Hmm," Joe says. He frowns, curls his finger up a little, twists it. "What does this even do?"

"I think it relaxes the, um, the vaginas, with girls, you know? So same thing with guys, I think. Maybe makes it less tight?"

"Tight is good, though, right?"

"Um. I dunno. Am I?"

"Pretty tight, yeah. But that's probably why it hurts." Joe gets another finger in, moves it, and suddenly Patrick goes rigid and he looks surprised, alarmed even.

"What?" Joe asks, studying his face intently.

"Oh," Patrick breathes, and then he's grinding down on Joe's fingers, sighing out loud. "Oh, okay, can you not fuck me? This is really nice. Could you, like." He gestures to his dick, and Joe frowns as he gets a hand around him. Patrick nods. "Okay, yeah, I'll blow you in a minute, but can you move your fingers, um, to the left, oh, there, ooh-"

Joe watches Patrick's hips snap a little, his eyes drifting closed, then squeezing shut. He feels almost like a sex toy, with Patrick using him to get off, but he doesn't let himself care. He jerks him off faster, feels Patrick clench around his fingers, and _oh_ , within minutes his body goes tight, and he's shuddering and whining, and then he's spilling over Joe's fist, and Joe smiles a little and pushes his fingers up and watches him gasp and shake through an aftershock.

"Damn," Patrick finally says, panting and looking more than satisfied. "Yeah, okay, that was good."

"What'd I do?"

Patrick closes his eyes and breathes through his nose. "There's, like, there's a thing, inside, and I can never reach it when I'm doing it myself, and you didn't get it when we fucked last time, but you got it this time, and it feels really, _really_ good."

"Oh. Well. Told you I was good in the sack." Patrick chuckles in response, and Joe just watches him for a minute, the rise and fall of his (still clothed) chest and the tiny smile on his lips, before he slowly says, "I still wanna fuck you."

Patrick's eyes open, and he hesitates, then says, "Fine. Gimme a minute."

"Okay. Maybe now that you, uh, maybe now that you came, you'll be more relaxed and it won't hurt so much? Or, or not hurt, maybe it won't be as overwhelming?"

"Maybe," Patrick says. He brings his fingers up to his mouth, sucks on two and makes eye contact with Joe, and then he's moving them down, into his ass. He's already stretched from Joe's fingers; a few thrusts of his own and he's ready. "This should be better," he says. He licks the palm of his free hand, reaches for Joe's cock, and strokes him a few times. Then he scoots up the bed, spreading his legs and grabbing at Joe's hip to get him closer.

Joe gets the hint and goes to guide his cock into Patrick, holding back from thrusting in hard and fucking like he wants to, and eases in slow. Patrick still gasps, then presses his lips tightly together.

"Hurts?" Joe asks.

Patrick nods. He lifts his hips, wrapping his legs around Joe's slim waist. "This," he says, pushing back against him, "this is better, yeah, c'mon."

"How?" Joe asks, getting his hands around Patrick's thick thighs and squeezing a little.

"Hard," Patrick says, and when Joe experimentally pulls out and thrusts back in, he mewls, kind of, his nose screwing up, and then he says, "No, keep going."

Patrick lets out stifled yelps for the first ten thrusts, and he has to keep telling a cautious Joe to keep going - "It's fine, it's fucking fine, keep going, it's just - it's jabby, it'll get better in a minute-" until finally he shifts his hips and tips his head back and lets out a long, low groan. "Okay, fuck, fuck, there, there's good, shit-"

Joe bites his lip, concentrating on getting the spot that makes Patrick rake his nails down Joe's back and arch up to bite his neck hard and come against his chest, and Patrick cries out and bucks up against Joe, taking him even fucking deeper, and then he's coming ( _again_ , he's coming for a second time, Joe's that good) with a weak, defeated little whimper.

He squeezes around Joe, so tight, so good, and Joe curses and thrusts one more time and comes, fingers digging into Patrick's hips until he's squirming.

The next day, seated next to him in the van, Patrick leans over and hisses, "I'm fucking sore."

"Sorry?" Joe whispers, frowning a little. "Is it supposed to hurt afterwards? We've done it, what, twice now?"

"I don't know, but my ass fucking hurts. We're not fucking for a while."

"Gas station," Andy calls from the front. "Anyone want anything?"

"Doritos!" Joe yells, and Pete says, "Get me a Dr. Pepper!"

Patrick flips through the magazine he's reading. "I'm good."

"Alright, Doritos, a Dr. Pepper, and condoms, got it." Andy gets out before Patrick can start yelling, and Pete cracks up in the front seat, twisting around to laugh at Patrick.

"How's your sex life anyway?" he asks, suddenly sobering up, looking between the two of them.

"Confidential," Patrick says, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yeah," Joe agrees. 

"You two suck. Oh wait, ha."

Patrick almost burns two holes through Pete's headrest with his glare.

Despite everything, Joe and Patrick get a room to themselves for the night the next day, and Joe finds himself on his knees between Patrick's legs, mouth on his cock and two fingers in his ass. Patrick's on the bed, his legs over Joe's shoulders and his hips coming way off it and his head tilting back to reveal his pale, sweaty neck - Joe wants to lick that neck, wants to taste his sweat, but that's kind of weird, he thinks - and Patrick's making hiccuping sounds now. "You - you wanna try?" he asks, grinding down on Joe's fingers. He looks down, and fuck, he looks wrecked already, pink cheeks and red lips and damp hair.

"Hell yes," Joe says around the dick in his mouth, and Patrick groans, bucking his hips up. Joe gags a little, then pulls off, glaring up at him. "I really don't wanna choke and die on your dick, man, that'd be pretty embarrassing."

"Get up here and fuck me," Patrick says, spreading his legs a little wider.

Joe licks his lips and stands, bent over a little because his fingers are still in Patrick's ass. He tucks a third finger into him, wiping at his own sweaty forehead with his free hand. "You're good?"

"Really good," Patrick says, swallowing hard.

Joe gives himself a few good strokes, but he's already plenty hard. Joe nudges Patrick's legs apart, then quickly but carefully thrusts in. Patrick makes a sound that's something between a yelp and a moan. "I am so not a size queen," he groans, and Joe tries not to move as Patrick clenches around him. It feels amazing - the tightness of Patrick's ass and the feel of his entire body and the fact that Joe's fucking him, taking him, making him his, and that Patrick's _letting_ him. They've done this three times now, but it's still so surreal to feel Patrick like this. He just hopes that one day Patrick can enjoy it as much as Joe himself does.

"Okay," Patrick says, reaching to get a hand on Joe's hip, "okay, yeah. Fuck me."

Joe thrusts once, slowly, pulling out entirely and then moving in again and trying to ignore the slightly dry slide. He watches Patrick's face, frowns when he bites his lip and closes his eyes and whimpers.

Somewhere after fifteen thrusts, Patrick's eyes open, and there are tears brimming in them. Joe brushes his thumb under the left one, and the tears haven't fallen yet, but when Patrick blinks, Joe feels the wetness on his thumb. "Hey, hey. Don't cry."

Patrick sucks in a shaky breath. "It hurts, and I really don't want it to."

"It's okay, shh." Joe stops moving his hips entirely, but Patrick shoves himself down onto Joe's cock. Joe accidentally moans, and Patrick just makes a weak sound.

"I want to like it," Patrick says, clenching hard around Joe's dick. His thighs are shaking and his face is blotchy and red. It's a good look for him, and it makes Joe's cock twitch, but now's not the time to think that Patrick crying is kind of hot. Joe shoves the thought to the back of his mind, tries to focus on the blubbering mess of Patrick instead. "-want you to fuck me hard and I wanna be a total slut for it and I want you to call me your whore and I wanna be a moaning mess, like - like in the pornos and the online forums and stuff, but it just, it feels so weird and wrong and painful-"

Joe frowns. Then he pulls out, shushing Patrick gently when he protests. He slides down until he's on his hands and knees and takes Patrick's dick in his mouth again, and Patrick comes in a few minutes, barely holding himself back from fucking Joe's mouth. Joe sits back and jerks himself off, aims for Patrick's chest and belly when he comes. Patrick starts hollering as soon as he realizes what Joe's done, but Joe just laughs and runs into the bathroom, locking the door and getting into the shower, which he does very quickly because he's already naked, which is pretty convenient, he should be naked more often.

When he finally gets out of the bathroom, Patrick's already asleep, wrapped up in one of Joe's hoodies. His hair's wet, and Joe assumes he went over and used Pete's shower. Pete's intuitive, he probably questioned and Patrick probably grudgingly answered with the truth. Joe laughs a little when he imagines it: "What a messy boy you are, Patrick!" "Shut up, Pete. Um. Can I use your shower?" "Sure, man. I'm guessing Trohman took yours?" "Yeah. He's a dick." "I think he's pretty cool, but you probably know more about dicks than I do." Joe can imagine Patrick glaring and Pete busting up as he settles in behind him. He hums when Joe pulls him close, and Joe relishes in how it feels to be pressed to Patrick's soft and warm body. He seriously loves him, he just really wishes he could make the sex a little better. The Gods of Gay Intercourse are against them, he decides, right before he falls asleep - but fuck the Gods of Gay Intercourse. They're totally lame anyway.

"Hi," Patrick says from where he's laid out naked on the bed when Joe walks into the room a week later. "So I did some research. We need lube, apparently. I have some quality stuff."

Joe stares, open-mouthed, as Patrick, completely naked on the bed with his legs spread wide, just this side of slutty, coats two of his own fingers in the gunk. "Oh."

"I tried it earlier, in the van, when you and Pete were at the store and Andy was asleep - it's a lot better," Patrick says, and Joe has to sit on the bed because the thought of Patrick fingering himself and trying to keep quiet so Andy doesn't hear is absurdly hot. Joe's dick swells at the sight of Patrick fitting the two fingers inside himself, making tiny little noises as he awkwardly pushes his fingers in deeper. His wrist is tweaked and it looks painful, so Joe reaches to try and help, but Patrick waves him off with his free hand. "Don't touch, just watch. _Learn_ ," he says, a little accusingly, and Joe presses his lips together and leans back.

Patrick lifts his hips, and Joe glances down at where he's stretching himself open, scissoring his fingers and twisting them. At some point, he starts making low little grunting noises, in time with the thrusting of his fingers, and Joe wants to laugh because he kind of sounds like a tortured animal of some kind, but it's pretty hot, even though it doesn't sound anything like the whiny moans of all the porn stars. Maybe because he's real and he's Patrick and he's getting a third finger in his ass, god _damn_.

Joe watches Patrick closely, sees how his face is scrunched up, sees how he's panting and his bottom lip looks as biteable as ever. Joe leans in for a little kiss, desiring something chaste, and he's surprised when Patrick grabs for him and pulls him in, kissing him hard. He pushes him off just enough to say, "Finger me," and then he's guiding Joe's hand down to where he's got three digits tucked inside himself. He eases his own fingers out, then squirts some lube onto Joe's. "Start with two. C'mon."

Joe licks his lips and pushes two in, pushing them up, and Patrick arches, pushing his ass down onto them. "Good, good, fuck, another," and now he sounds just a little more effeminate, a little more like he's in a porno, his voice an octave higher and his moan shaky and shrill, but it doesn't sound ridiculous, just really, really hot. Joe fits his ring finger in, and Patrick's hips jerk and he groans, reaching down for his dick.

"This doesn't hurt?" Joe asks, his breath hot against Patrick's cheek.

"No," Patrick says. "No, it's good. I - your dick now, please?" Quickly, he adds, "Condom in the drawer. Apparently we need those."

"We've already done it together unprotected, like, five times. If we gave each other something, it's too late anyway."

"Get a fucking condom, Joe. You don't understand how fucking weird it is when you can feel semen dripping out of your ass. Put the damn rubber on."

Joe frowns, but obeys, pulling his fingers out and reaching for one, tearing it and then rolling it over his dick with uncertainty on his fingers.

Patrick nods approvingly. "Good. Don't hold back, okay? This should be good."

Joe starts to ask how he wants it, but then Patrick's rolling onto his stomach, getting on hands and knees, his ass in the air. "Oh," he says, because Patrick's rode him and they've done it missionary, but this is new. This is - wow. This is hot.

Joe gets behind him. "Tell me how it feels, okay?"

"We've done this, like, four times now, okay, I'll be fine. Fuck me."

Joe nods and lines up, then braces a hand on the small of Patrick's back and pushes in. Patrick groans and rocks back, his back arching, and holy shit, Joe's so fucking in love. He's so fucking hot, Joe can't stand it.

Joe says so in a weak voice, thrusting a little, and Patrick glances back over his shoulder, smirking a little, though he still looks a little overwhelmed, eyes glossy and lips parted. "I know," he says breathlessly, clenching around Joe's cock deliciously, and Joe groans and finds his rhythm, sharp, jagged thrusts that get Patrick losing his cool, sexy persona in minutes. He starts crying out, but not in pain, and then he's grabbing the sheets and writhing and biting the pillow and moaning and trying to roll his hips and Jesus Christ, what the hell. Joe's not complaining, but he doesn't understand.

"You're, like, totally slutty now. What happened?"

"It doesn't hurt anymore," Patrick answers, "and pain ruins everything good." Joe doesn't have a chance to answer, though he briefly thinks that that could totally be a song lyric, because Patrick says, "Wait, pull out," and Joe does, carefully, and Patrick says, "I wanna see you," turning onto his back. He brings his knees up, showing Joe where he's red and open, and Joe curses, shoving inside fast and instantly setting his pace again. He gets a hand around the back of Patrick's left thigh, pushing it up towards his head, and he's sure Patrick's not that flexible but the singer's not complaining anyway. He's making desperate little whining sounds, trying to keep up with Joe's erratic thrusts with slow, purposeful thrusts of his own, and then he reaches down to jerk himself off. It's harsh, fast, and desperate, and Patrick looks like he's enjoying every second of it.

Joe comes first, thrusting into Patrick one last time, hips pressed to his ass, spilling into the condom. He doesn't like it, doesn't like having a layer of latex between them, but he's too distracted to care. When he comes back to himself, he sees Patrick jacking himself off erratically, pushing down against Joe's dick like he's trying to fuck himself on it, his eyebrows crushed together and his tongue caught between his teeth.

"Come on, Patrick," Joe urges, wrapping his hand around Patrick's until they bring him off together. Patrick stiffens, head thrown back, his whole body trembling, and Joe watches, making a face at the mess Patrick leaves on his chest. "You got it on me," he pouts.

Patrick lifts his head and looks at Joe's chest, then giggles and reaches up to drag a finger through it. He puts the finger just in front of Joe's mouth, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, no," Joe says, pulling out and carefully pulling the condom off and tying it. "You're gross."

"Mmm," Patrick hums, sucking the finger into his own mouth.

"Thta's your own jizz," Joe says, dropping the condom onto the floor and the crawling up to lay beside Patrick. "You know that, right?"

"Yeah, so? I've swallowed yours before, what's wrong with mine?"

Joe shakes his head and purses his lips.

He's long since cleaned the come off of his fingers, but Patrick sucks them into is mouth again anyway. He hollows his cheeks, staring at Joe.

"What are you doing?"

Patrick releases his fingers with a pop. "Being hot. Finger sucking is like, it's supposed to be hot, I read about it-"

Joe adjusts Patrick's hat, which is somehow still on, then smiles when Patrick slaps at his hand. "There we are. That's hot."

Patrick frowns. "Me getting mad about you touching my hat is hot?"

"No, you getting mad about me touching your hat is you. And you're hot, just being you. I don't need kinky finger licking or whatever to find you sexy."

Patrick smiles, then laughs. "That was cheesy."

"I'm cheesy. You love it. You wanna lick the cheese off me."

Patrick laughs again. "Yeah. That'd be erotic."

"Cheese dick," Joe muses aloud.

Patrick rolls over and then curls up in front of Joe, his back to Joe's chest - they're usual post-coital cuddling position. It's spooning, casual and carefree, and it's intimate, and it makes Joe's heart sing, even though his heart is kind of a shitty vocalist.

"Joe?" Patrick mumbles when the guitarist is just about to fall asleep, and he sounds close to unconsciousness himself.

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

It's quiet and timid, like he's scared of Joe's response, or lack of response.

Joe smiles, nuzzles into Patrick's neck, and breaths, "I love you, too."

Patrick glances back at him. "For real?"

"Fo' rizzle, P. Stizzle," Joe answers.

Patrick smiles.

Maybe they're both lying, maybe it's because they're young and horny and lust is painfully similar to love when you're a kid, but it's real for the moment and that's all either of them could ask for.

**Author's Note:**

> Cheesy ending as per usual. Sorry I'm a sap. There was also a scene where Joe bottomed but I had a hard time writing top!Patrick so I cut it out lol.


End file.
